A Matter of Time
by insomniacghosty
Summary: Hermione's struggling after too much time turner use. Somehow, Snape is the only one who notices. A story of bizarre friendship, honesty, and demons from the past. Snape/Hermione eventually. Hermione/Fred, Harry/Luna/Ginny, Ron/Neville. Upped to mature for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, I own none of these characters. I just like playing in the world.

Hermione was tired. She was tired of her tedious classes. She was tired of the tension between everyone. She was tired of the war. And she was tired of having to act younger than she really was. The guilt was starting to wear on her, as it had for so long. But it being her sixteenth birthday, it was nearly unbearable. In fact, it almost made her grateful for her detention with Snape.

She thought it was ridiculous that he even gave her detention. Honestly, she'd prevented a cauldron from melting. Hermione had been quietly coaching Neville for years, she mused, but she didn't care. She was cranky from having to exert her magic all day after her bracelet had been destroyed in the nearly disastrous potions incident. Her glamour was typically built into her jewelry, but she hadn't had a chance to reapply it to anything. Especially since she was wanting to experiment with more charms.

At least she had the afternoon blessedly free, given that Professor Binns never noticed if she wanted to skip class and Hagrid was on a long weekend to secure another creature for class. Hermione decided to luxuriate in her dorm room while no one else was around, taking out her notebook and tapping on the front page. More pages than the book should have held flipped until coming to a rest on the specified page, and Hermione hummed an approval note.

"Yes, I think that will do," she muttered to herself, and began scribbling in the notebook and occasionally running some numbers in the air with her wand. She didn't have the time to weave the spells together that night, but given that the next day was the weekend, she would be able to complete her new charm bracelet soon. She closed her notebook and tucked it into her bag before leaving for dinner.

The young woman reached the dungeons after a quick meal, brushing off her friends' concerns about her spending her birthday in detention. Honestly, she was glad to be out of their range of concern for the moment. Hermione knocked on the door to the potions classroom and waited a few beats for a response, but none came. She tried again, and again no sound came back. She sighed to herself before steeling her resolve for patience and opened the door anyway.

Snape was sitting inside, marking papers at his desk. She swallowed her frustration and approached his desk. He continued marking without looking up.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he drawled, and she almost faltered. He clearly had told her to come for detention that evening. She pulled in a deep breath, causing him to look at her with amused eyes.

"I'm here for my detention, sir," she said, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice. By his brow raising, she failed.

"Obviously. There is a station set up for you to prepare ingredients for me. You ungrateful brats have used up nearly all my stores of beetle wings and eyes. You'll take care not to damage a single one when you collect them," he said, and she looked back into the darkest corner of the room, to see an unobvious station set up. "You will leave your wand here and turn off your little glamour charm. No one here cares about you trying to doll yourself up."

At that last instruction, Hermione froze.

"You can tell I'm wearing a charm?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes.

"I can feel the magic on you, child. At least you don't look like a tart like some of your peers. Nonetheless, off with it. The magic residue can affect the potency," he clarified, and Hermione hesitated.

"May I speak with you in your office, sir? I… am reluctant to remove the charm without being able to speak privately about it," he said, cheeks turning red and Snape gave her a look of pure annoyance.

"I care not about any acne breakouts or whatever vanity you are trying to preserve. Off with it, or I will," he warned, and she sighed, setting wards over the classroom instead and locking the door. Snape stood, furious, until she removed the charm.

Hermione Granger changed before him. She became a couple of inches taller, her eyes were sharper but more tired. There were bags under her dark brown eyes, and the last of the baby fat had left her. She had aged in a moment, but the annoyance on her face was just the same. A long, tense moment of silence passed with Snape staring at her in surprise, trying to catalogue all the subtle changes. It was not adding up in his mind. The girl was sixteen, but looked to be an adult. He finally met her eyes again.

"Explain yourself," he demanded. Hermione nodded, and took a seat at a nearby desk.

"You may want to sit, sir. It's a long story," she started before taking a deep breath and diving in. "In my third year, I was given a time turner to be able to take all classes available. Professor McGonagall said it was because of my potential, but I know it was really because I'm a book crazy swot, so don't bother insulting me over that. I began living essentially double days, due to my workload. When Sirius Black escaped prison, I took a bit of extra time to start researching what happened in the betrayal of Harry's parents, according to the Prophet and what sort of investigation had been done. Did you know that there was actually no evidence outside of Pettigrew's finger? Well, it was starting to not add up. I wondered what other inconsistencies there were.

"I found many. The end of the year, when Sirius escaped as did Pettigrew, I increased my research into the first war. Of course, after I attempted to go back and prevent Pettigrew from escaping. My stunner failed. I… I had to accept that that was a fixed point, as much as I wanted to prevent it. When Cedric died, I…." she explained, but trailed off with teary eyes. She took a steadying breath and began again.

"When he died, I resolved to prevent as many deaths as I could. I began giving myself extra training, physically. But I started to read even more. A surprise, I'm sure. I wanted to look into creating spells, I did more research into runes and their meanings, spells in other languages, things like that. I developed my glamour charm and put it on a bracelet. It broke today, when some potion landed on it. It's tied to showing a specific age and health level. It is draining without having an anchor, but I haven't had a chance to create a new one yet," she finished.

It was a lot to process. Initially Snape was furious. Then, curious. Then back to anger. By the end, he just felt exhausted. All problems ended up landing on his shoulders it seemed. He rubbed his tired eyes and leaned against his desk.

"I am going to ask you questions and I expect honest answers. I fear you left out quite a few details, Miss Granger," he warned, and she nodded.

"First, Miss Granger, is why were you not made to give back the Time Turner at the end of the year?" he asked, and she went red as she did when confronted by her rule breaking.

"I was meant to destroy it. I lied and told Professor McGonagall that I had, but I kept it," she said reluctantly, and he closed his eyes. Of course the Gryffindor head of house trusted her prized student so wholly.

"Foolish. Second, how have you aged as much as you have?" he asked, and she shifted in her chair.

"Over the summer, I used it. It does not register as using magic for the Underage Magic act. I took summer classes at university in secret. I did not want my parents to know why I was becoming so desperate to know as much as I could, nor did I want them to not be able to spend time with me, I know it's limited," she explained. A sentimental answer as ever, and he did not press on it.

"Third. Who knows about this?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"No one, sir. I wasn't about to try to advertise my misuse of a magic item," she sniffed. He scowled.

"You will tell me these discrepancies you spoke of," he demanded, and she reached for her bag and rummaged around to find a plain notebook. She hesitated before handing it to him.

"Can I trust you, sir?" she asked, and he stared at her, unamused. However, she appeared quite serious.

"I am your professor, Miss Granger," he reminded her with some weariness.

"You're also a spy," she countered, and it was his turn to freeze and be caught off guard. He looked at his student with new eyes, finding that to have been the bravest, if not most foolish, thing she had ever said to him.

"Whatever gave you that idea, insolent child?" he asked in a dark tone. He stalked over to where she stood with her notebook clasped tightly to her chest. He loomed over her still quite short form, a sneer on his face. She stared up at him with a healthy amount of fear, but narrowed her eyes.

"You're more insulting when you're caught off guard, you know. I've seen you leaving the castle and coming back at odd hours. I've seen you covered in blood, one night-" she said quickly but his hand clamped over her mouth and he hissed. Her eyes widened and he felt her tremble beneath his hand and he fought the revulsion he had for himself.

"Stop. Speaking. Now," he bit out, and dragged her into his office and tapped a pattern on his bookcase, revealing a door to his private quarters. Once in there, he threw her into a chair, ignoring her sharp yelp of pain from the rough treatment, and heavily warded his room and fireplace. He advanced on her again, blood boiling at her sheer gall.

"Tell me what you know and who you've told," he demanded with a quiet but fearsome voice. Hermione swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. She shook her head, holding her notebook even tighter.

"I-I haven't told anyone, sir, I promise! It wasn't as if I really went snooping- I was just trying to keep a tab on professors so I could move around at night without being caught. Sometimes, I go out on the grounds to just get some air. I saw you- but I also saw you go directly to the Headmaster's office. You looked hurt, sir. I wanted to help but I know it wouldn't be my place and you would probably kill me before anything-" she started rambling until he interrupted her.

"Legilimens!" he yelled, invading her mind to look for any sign of dishonesty. To his surprise, he was greeted by a strong wall and promptly booted out. Hermione now looked angry over scared and stood up from her chair, getting into Snape's face with a wagging finger.

"How dare you try to just invade my mind like that! I have been nothing but honest with you- despite knowing of your other activities, and you treat me like that? You have no right to go digging in my brain! If anyone should be trying legilimency here, it should be _me_ trying to check _your_ motivations!" she ranted, poking his chest just the way she would with Harry or Ron when they messed up. He grabbed the offending finger and glared heavily at her.

"Do not presume to assault my person, Miss Granger," he hissed, and she scoffed.

"Strong words, Professor Snape. Hypocritically strong," she rebuffed, and he at least had the decency to avert his eyes shamefully. Hermione was still breathing heavily with her own anger, wild hair giving off sparks. He noted the sight for future reference.

"I suppose you are correct… However I cannot be sure of your truthfulness. You lied to your favorite professor, to your friends, and your parents. You lie to all of us on a daily basis with your very appearance. How am I to trust that you are telling the truth to me, someone you distrust, so openly?" he asked, figuring he had caught her in her own hypocrisy. To his surprise, instead of looking ashamed at being caught lying again or getting mad at questioning her, she just looked resigned and as tired as he felt.

"I didn't have a choice to tell you, really. You would have taken off my glamour. And… and I think I just really wanted someone else to know," she admitted quietly. Snape did not have a good response for that. He knew that feeling well, the longing to finally be honest and open but knowing he never could be. It was not only dangerous for himself, but for anyone he told. For a long moment, they just looked at the fire, not sure where to go from there. Hermione was, unsurprisingly, the first to break.

"Sir? I would like to make a proposition," she ventured, and he gave her a harsh look that she did not shy from.

"I'll tell you everything I know. I'll let you see my notes, the connections I've drawn, my observations. I took a lot of psychology classes, I've been picking up on people's little habits. I think you could really benefit from it," she offered. He eyed her warily.

"What would you ask in return?" he asked. She was offering him a great boon. The outside perspective of someone who was not involved in anything could provide an interesting insight, and her psychological notes could be beneficial. She shrugged.

"I just want the chance to be fully honest with someone. You don't have to tell me anything. I won't ask you to explain yourself, or tell me anything more than you want to. I just… I just want to be free to be myself for a short while," she explained. It was a simple request, innocent in nature, and Snape almost shuddered in response at the vulnerability presented to him. He was not allowed vulnerability, and here she was being so open about her own. He felt vile.

"I can… consider it," he finally ceded, and felt revulsion at her open display of relief at his proclamation. People should not be relieved to spend time with him. "I will let you know when I would be available for such a meeting."

He could practically see the lightbulb go off over her head. Really, for a girl who had built such a shield to hide her thoughts, she wore herself so openly.

"May I make a suggestion, sir? You mentioned earlier that our classes go through your potion stores at a fast pace. Perhaps I could help you under guise of a potential potions apprenticeship later on. I imagine Professor McGonagall would be pleased that you would consider me worthy of such a thing, and you might be able to sell it to, er, You-Know-Who as using a-a muggleborn for labor, with no intention of ever letting me truly having an apprenticeship," she suggested. He narrowed his eyes at her. For a moment, he thought she may have made a good Slytherin. If only she could keep her damned hope off her face.

"...Perhaps indeed. As I said, it shall be considered. I believe this has been quite eventful enough of a night, however. I would advise you make your way to your dorm without fail. I will contact you regarding this… proposition soon," he told her in a clear dismissal. The daft girl actually beamed at him before leaving his quarters. He had been so focused on his anger and, admittedly, fear at being discovered as a spy that he had entirely forgotten he had dragged her into his chambers. A deep shame overwhelmed him at getting so worked up that he could act with such impropriety.

He resolved not to let his emotions get the better of him again.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow thank you guys a lot! I decided to publish the second chapter a little early. You're all so lovely.

When Snape next saw Hermione in class, she was wearing a small charm bracelet and looked as he fully expected- young, pristine, and ready to learn. If not for her shy smile as she entered the classroom, he would have thought he had dreamed the odd events of the days previous. He slipped a note in with her returned homework, and to her credit she did not give any indication of the secret message. It was only when the class was over and she was nearly out the door that she met his eye and barely nodded- she would see him later that evening.

Hermione was quite giddy, herself. It felt entirely freeing to know that she would be allowed a small chance to be open and honest after what had been years to her. She would not mention a few things, for the sake of propriety as well as her own want for privacy, but for someone to know her as Hermione the eighteen year old, the young adult and fighter in a war was heady. She entered the potions classroom after curfew, and found the same beetles set up from her deflected detention.

Snape was waiting by the desk, looking slightly awkward but still a full figure of authority. Hermione approached the desk and sat down her bag, then tapped her watch to remove the glamour charm. A look of relief washed over her, and she put her wand away and grabbed the box of beetles.

"Shall I begin, sir?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes. As you work, I'll ask you questions. Take care to not get too distracted from the beetles- I will deduct points if any are too damaged to be useful," he warned, and to his annoyance she just quirked her lips in amusement.

"Yes, sir," she said with a smile to her voice, and he glowered at her. She pulled one beetle from the box and deftly began to harvest the ingredients, not even flinching at the bug guts getting under her short nails.

"Very well. When did you first realize that the case of Black was not as it seemed?" he asked, and she looked up a moment, brows furrowed in thought.

"It was after I knew about Professor Lupin's condition. Harry had overheard a discussion between professors that Sirius was his godfather. I wanted to look into why he would betray the Potters- any amount of noted disputes, of pressure to rat them out, anything like that. But even the papers admitted it seemed out of the blue but typical of a Black. Sirius isn't a typical Black, though- he was never in Slytherin, openly defied his family and ran away from home to live with Harry's dad before he finished school. They were brothers, essentially.

"But when I was looking through old yearbooks, I did notice something a little odd. The Mauraders were in a lot of photos together, but Pettigrew always looked, well, distant. I don't think he ever felt like he really belonged with them. You were in their year, weren't you? What was your opinion of them?" she asked.

Snape snarled out of habit and turned away from watching her hands eviscerate the beetles.

"The four of them were all foul mouthed brutes who neither deserved the attention they got or truly appreciated the opportunities they had," he said with halting words, clearly trying not to grind his teeth. While Hermione knew that Snape hated the Mauraders, she hadn't expected such a vitrolistic answer. She did not respond, instead watching his back as he took a few deep breaths.

"It is… difficult for me to think of them beyond their arrogance and cruelty. However… thinking back on it, I find it difficult to recall many instances of Pettigrew acting on his own. He was the first to run and typically a lookout over anything. Perhaps he was a coward even then," he finally mused.

"If they were so cruel, sir, why do they still seem to be so loved?" she asked with genuine confusion. Snape wanted to yell at her for her density, but she was not questioning his judgement. Instead he gave her a look that she was being stupid.

"Surely, Miss Granger, you are smart enough to figure that one out. They were brilliant golden children. Black broke the mold of his terrible family. Lupin was proof that having a curse did not make you an immediate monster. Potter… he was simply born lucky. They were a shining example of true friendship, or whatever nonsense people liked to tout to justify never allowing them a single punishment," he sneered, bitterness dripping from every word, and he fell quiet.

"I do not wish to speak more on the subject. Tell me what all subjects you have been diving into over your summers," he said instead. He wanted to gauge the level of knowledge she could bring to the table. She immediately began rambling off a list. Essentially, she had a muggle Bachelor Degree in liberal arts, primed to go in any direction she saw fit. And there were many directions. Criminal justice, psychology, biology and chemistry were her main interests at the moment, but she had also been doing extra research into herbology, ancient runes, and charms, with a lot of theory in potions as well. Ravenclaw had truly suffered a loss by her sorting.

"That is… inhumane," he finally said, overwhelmed at the amount of work she had clearly put into her own education. She frowned and shrugged, continuing to work on her beetles.

"It won't hurt to be prepared. With… his return, I want to have every bit of knowledge that might help us win," she defended.

"Are there any areas in which you are not going for a doctorate?" he asked teasingly, and she turned red but bit her lip to avoid lashing out.

"No. I just… I feel very unprepared. But it's here. The war is at our doors, already starting and I'm pretending to be sixteen and naive to it. But Cedric already died for this war. How many died before his return? How many will die now? Or end up in St. Mungo's, trapped in their own minds, battered and broken or insane? I can't let that happen to anyone."

Snape sighed at her actually starting to tear up.

"That is well and truly out of your control. It is… admirable, the lengths to which you are willing to go. However, this is still a war. You will lose friends. You will see them hurt, or worse. It will be through no fault of your own. The sooner you accept that you are not a lone actor in a static field, the better off you'll be in the long run. Your friends may be young now, but… we were young in the last war, too. It cares not for your age, for your friendship or your love. Death Eaters do not care. All you can hope for is to keep yourself alive and do what you can, when you can. To believe any more is foolish," he advised, much gentler than he was comfortable being. Women crying always did make him uncomfortable.

To his relief, she nodded and seemed to take the words to heart. It was not a bunch of nonsense designed to make her feel better. But clearly the girl had been allowing herself to run herself rampant with trying to shove an entire lifetime of knowledge into a few years.

They managed to turn the conversation less personal as she continued working. He asked after her knowledge of the first war, and she told him she knew mentions of the Order of the Phoenix, and he confirmed the continued existence. She knew who some of the key players were, and remarked that it would be better to try to have more Slytherins on their side, at which he scoffed.

"Hogwarts has been trying to keep Slytherin away from anything good since it was founded. No matter who it is, their background, or the reasons the Hat placed them in Slytherin, the rest of the school does not want them to become good people," he sneered. Hermione did not comment- he had a point. The first thing she'd been told on the train was that no good witch went to Slytherin, and as a Muggleborn she'd be killed the first night in there. Not for the first time, she wondered how things might have been different if there was not such a stigma.

"You're right. It's horrid. How would you recommend implementing change?" she asked, and he shrugged it off.

"I do not believe it is possible at this point. There is a reason I am so favorable to my house- no one else would dare be kind to them, so I may… be a little heavy in my protection of them," he admitted, and Hermione quirked a smile. That was quite an understatement, but she understood it a bit more clearly now. A small idea was buzzing in the back of her mind, not yet fully formed, and she put a pin in it for later.

"Well, I still have hope for the future," she commented, and he scoffed but did not comment. She would learn eventually, he was sure, that it was foolish to try. Especially in the current climate.

Before they realized it, hours had passed and Snape dismissed Hermione after they put away the ingredients. He told her he was expecting a flubberworm shipment soon, and would require her help when it arrived. She left feeling freer, but Snape felt more overwhelmed.

He had enough to deal with, he should not have let his curiosity get the better of him and make a deal with the girl. He should not have to be some girl's diary because she chose to alienate herself. And yet, he found himself interested in her opinions. They were far removed from his opinion of what she would typically say, and he realized that he actually did not know much about her at all. He tried to catalogue his knowledge and found it lacking. She had been an arm waving, crazed bookworm just last year, or perhaps she hadn't. His strongest impression of her was her first and second years, but she had dropped off his radar as she had began to put more focus on her studies and her friends. He wondered if the other professors had noticed. It had been so gradual, he doubted it.

Meanwhile, Hermione was starting to have her relief wear off. Now, she just felt weird. Her standoffish and mean professor now knew more important things about her than her best friends did- but the thought of explaining to Harry and Ron and the potential of them isolating her again was too much to bear. It was hellish when they had cut her out of the loop for her reporting his broom, but now, when she already felt so alone… she didn't want to think about it. But at the same time, she knew it was not fair to put it all on Professor Snape, who already had so much on his plate. She resolved not to let it get too personal, steeling her own heart against the pain that her self imposed loneliness would cause. She couldn't drag him down with her- he was down far enough.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time they met, Snape noticed an odd sense of distance coming from his student. Hermione greeted him with her usual polite friendliness, and made no quips about the disgusting worms she would be chopping up. He began to ask her more questions about what she had found- again, she did not want to give him her whole notebook.

"There are more than my observations relating to the war in it, I'm sure you understand the need for privacy," she explained when he pressed her on it. He conceded for the moment, but still his fingers itched to read the plain looking notebook. He filled in where she had blanks regarding the first war's trials- there were many but hardly fair, and some managed to escape them entirely through their family name or influence.

"That happened with Mr. Malfoy, didn't it? Buying his way out of prison?" she asked quietly, setting down her knife for a moment to relax a hand cramp. He felt uncomfortable speaking about someone he considered to be a friend- a terrible person, perhaps, but still a friend.

"It appeared so. He gave excuses that were very thin, and they were accepted without much attention," he finally said, looking away. Hermione eyed him oddly, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"I won't ask you to speak on them further. You must be close to them, at least a little" she murmured, and he jerked. She noticed and swiftly changed the subject. "Harry's eyes shake just a bit if he's lying. He doesn't realize he does it."

It was clearly an attempt at a save from getting too personal, and he allowed it with trepidation.

"Normally I notice his incredible obviousness over his eyes, but duly noted," he said with some amusement, and Hermione smiled.

"I've noticed some of the other professors have little tells as well. Professor McGonagall's accent gets just a slight bit thicker and her voice lighter, Professor Vector uses more jargon when she wants to throw me off. I'm pretty sure Professor Dumbledore favors his left side of his mouth if he's saying something purposefully enigmatic to us. It's infuriating when he does," she continued. Snape quirked his lips.

"Well noticed. I can hardly wait for you approval to join the Order, you'll pick up on everyone so quickly. Gryffindors are notoriously bad at hiding their emotions, after all. One day you might try to decipher a different house," he said.

"I've noticed more than Gryffindors!" Hermione protested, though the look on her face was not one of offense. "I can tell when Draco is bullshitting me."

"Language, Miss Granger. And, pray tell, what is his tell?" Snape drawled out his question, positive she was bluffing. After all, he knew the boy extremely well as his godfather and makeshift uncle.

"He makes more physical comments when he's doing it for show. About my hair, my teeth, my height- easier targets so he can think more about getting out of the situation, I think. Actually, may I ask you something, sir?"

He knew the questions would pour in again soon, and he gave her a look that she may continue.

"Is Draco related to you in any way?" she asked, and despite her gentle innocence in the question, Snape's protective anger flared up again. From the look on her face, the realized instantly that she had asked too personal a question, and was stuttering while attempting to backtrack while Snape advanced on her, towering over her smaller form with ease. Even without a wand, he was intimidating and sneered cruelly.

"Just have to know every little personal detail, don't you Miss Granger? Tell me, is it just me you're sniffing after or are you this intrusive with every adult? Is there any part of my life you are not trying to become intimately familiar with? What the hell gave you the right to even begin this research, hm? Is it truly research, or were you just looking for blackmail, perhaps anything to explain away any nastiness I send your way? Perhaps you should learn to stop shoving your nose into other people's business before anything bad were to happen," he snarled, and she flinched at his harsh words.

"I… perhaps you're right. I was reading old newspapers, trying to find connections that may be overlooked, but as usual I got too into my own project and did more harm than good. I won't take up any more of your time, I imagine I bring nothing new to the table anyway. Thank you for allowing me to help with the ingredients," she said mechanically, her voice detached and her eyes trying desperately not to water. Her face went blank and she grabbed her back and walked stiffly out the classroom door, making it to the nearest girl's bathroom before she broke down crying.

Snape deflated instantly when he heard her suppressed sobs just outside his door. He knew she was not trying to pry out of curiosity, but out of concern for the war. But he absolutely did not want to discuss with her his genuine connections to Death Eater families.

Perhaps it would be best to discontinue their strange discussion and potions sessions, he thought, and sighed to himself. It would be a damn waste if they did.

"Stupid Hermione. Of course you wasted years trying to being the biggest damn know it all to ever exist. And for what? To know what people who lived then already knew? How could you ever think you would be worth anything here. You ruined your own damn life for nothing," she yelled at herself in the privacy of the abandoned bathroom.

It wasn't even that he had been particularly mean- just confirming what she already knew about herself. She was useless and nosy and had no right to have gone snooping to know about anyway she actually knew. She'd been fighting off the terrible feeling of having done something wrong, but she could fight it no longer. She had well and truly fucked up her life, and she couldn't hide from it anymore.

Eventually she cried herself out and just laid on the cool tiles of the bathroom. She was not particularly concerned about the cleanliness or about being caught. After all, outside of her and Moaning Myrtle, no one ever went into that particular bathroom unless it was an emergency. But even Mrytle, who normally delighted in the misery of others, did not bother her as she laid sprawled on the far side of the bathroom, where she could quickly hide if someone came in.

Thankfully, she stayed alone as she sat up and looked at her notebook, holding all her notes from all of her observations on people, theories about connections and motivations, and spell work notes. It also contained her private diary of her time turner use and whatever notable happened to her. For instance, noticing Ron had a rather childish crush on her to his switching over to Neville, her own conflicted feelings on the matter, and her coming to terms that she would never date inside her 'true' age group, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was not something she wanted Snape to see at all.

Snape. She was lucky she left without him just murdering her. Hermione was adult enough to admit she had asked far too personal a question, especially after having promised herself she would detach and be less personal with him. The thought had just occurred out of the blue and she spoke without thinking. It was a clear sign that she was becoming too comfortable in his presence already.

It would be best, she told herself, if they didn't continue their arrangement. It was completely unfair of her to expect Snape to carry her burdens with her, and he never seemed truly surprised at any information she offered. She still felt that if she knew more about the first war, she could connect some dots and make the second war go much smoother, but no one else had been willing to entertain her questions either.

With a sigh Hermione got to her feet and decided to return to her dorm. She could still be useful as a teenager going to classes as normal. Somehow.


	4. Chapter 4

If Snape felt any guilt about laying into Hermione, he certainly did not show it when she next saw him in the classroom. He looked cranky as ever, with his base level of annoyance already high, but his vision swept over her as he watched the students trickle in. Clearly, he didn't care about how their meeting had ended. Hermione attempted to clamp down on the feeling of sadness that grew in her chest from that. She didn't particularly like Snape. He wasn't pleasant, nor kind, but it wasn't him she found herself regretting. It was that the very sight of him just reminded her of what a fool she'd been, and for no reason.

The knowledge had well and truly agonized her over the past few days. She had abused her time turner and aged beyond her friends, she had taken more classes than she ever really needed to, she had- well, no point in rehashing the same wounds. She felt even more alone than she had previously. Having someone know her secret had been a relief, but now felt like a blade hanging over her head. Now that she was not useful, not able to provide anything, would he tell the Headmaster? The Ministry? Would she be arrested? A whole new set of fears laid siege on her mind.

"Hermione? You haven't eaten anything," Harry pointed out as she found herself too focused on fretting to eat. She gently pushed the plate away, her stomach feeling tied in knots.

"Yeah, I'm just a little under the weather," she offered as an excuse, and Harry's sharp green eyes trained on her. Even though her glamour hid her aging and most of her tiredness, he could still see some bags under her red-rimmed eyes. He frowned at what he saw.

"You know, if you ever need to talk about anything…" he offered quietly, and her heart swelled and filled with pain at his kindness. If anyone needed to talk about their problems, it was Harry. She took his hand from across the table and gave him a sappy smile.

"Thank you, Harry. I appreciate it. It's just… a little stressful right now," she said, and he gave her a look that meant he didn't believe that was all but was going to drop it. Ron watched the exchanged and nudged Hermione gently.

"Hey, how about we take a weekend off? It's a Hogsmeade weekend, we don't have any tests next week. Whatever has you stressed out, I'm sure you'll figure it out. You're the brightest witch of our age, after all," he teased, but smiled genuinely. Hermione nudged him back with a smile of her own.

"Actually, that sounds lovely. I was actually wanting to go to Honeydukes, if we could," she mentioned, and both boys grinned. Their straightlaced friend typically didn't like sweets, but she had been craving chocolate all the more with her feelings of loneliness. The extra time with her boys could only be helpful.

They spent the evening in the common room, both Harry and Ron being extra silly to try to alleviate her unexplained episode of sadness, and she appreciated them all the more. It still hurt that she would probably never tell them that she was now years older, even if just a couple, but they were still loving, kind friends that she would change the world for. Snape was wrong about one thing- she could still protect them.

The next morning, they went down to Hogsmeade with Luna, Ginny, and Neville, and Hermione was amused to see that the small blonde with starry eyes was capturing Harry's attention. Secretly, she thought they might be a good match. She was a little confused, though, since it appeared Luna and Ginny were dating, but the three of them were all making eyes at each other and she decided it wasn't her business. Neither was the shy way Neville and Ron brushed hands in the carriage and both went red to the ears.

Once in town, she did indeed go to Honeyduke's with her friends, stocking up on all kinds of chocolate and candy. However, it was a little too loud for her, so she quickly excused herself to the bookstore, letting her friends remain behind.

Someone still followed her.

Draco Malfoy waited until Hermione was in a corner alone before he approached. He didn't know she had long noticed his presence, so he was disappointed at her lack of reaction when he suddenly pulled the book out of her hand.

" _Historic Rebellions from Goblins On_? Planning a revolt, Granger?" he sneered, and she snatched it back, brushing off where his fingers had been.

"Not that it's any concern of yours, Malfoy, but I happen to actually enjoy history and Binns is hardly teaching what we should know at this level," she sniffed, and he rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Umbridge is going to use that as proof that you were planning a rebellion all along," he threatened, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him innocently.

"Whatever are you talking about, Draco? I've never planned a rebellion in my life- I'm just a history lover," she said airly, and he grabbed her arm.

"Don't play coy with me, Granger, you aren't nearly pretty enough to pull of being stupid. I know you and Potter are planning something- how could you not be? After all, you know that you'll all be killed off sooner than later," he said in a hushed whisper, so none of the other patrons noticed his threat. Hermione only looked at him with boredom, despite his hand crushing her arm enough to leave bruises.

"By you, or your liar of a father? Either way, I fail to see much to fear there. But maybe a rebellion would be a good idea, if just to keep average psychopaths like you out of power. Thanks for the idea," she drawled in a way she had learned from years of dealing with Snape, and he went red with anger.

"Don't presume to know anything about me or my father, Granger," he hissed, and she met his gaze with a fierce intensity that set him off guard.

"Follow your own damn advice, Malfoy, and don't presume about me," she snapped back, then took a steadying breath. "It's a shame, you know- I think if you'd ever been given a chance you could have had a lot of potential," she lamented, and left before he could think of a comeback.

Hermione stewed on the interaction later, at the Hog's Head with her friends. Maybe Malfoy was paranoid, but they really should be planning something… but maybe not a full event. Something much better. Hermione looked at Harry, and when he met her eye he was bewildered and slightly frightened by the calculating look she was giving him- but even more so by the wide smile that followed.

"Harry, I need to talk to you tonight," she said, and then left after his agreement. She had planning to do, another purpose, and a better chance.

Snape watched the interaction between Hermione and Draco from across the shop, wishing he'd been able to hear what had taken place. He was relieved Hermione had made it out unscathed- he felt his godson was going more unpredictable by the day. He was still only fifteen, but that only meant he had the rage of hormones spurring him on. Still, the look of confused grief was unmistakable on his face, so Snape approached.

"Draco," he greeted, and his godson jumped at his presence.

"Uncle Severus, good to see you," he greeted in return, but his eyes still crinkled with confusion.

"I saw you speaking with the Granger girl- what trouble are you getting into? I need to know to bail you out later," Snape drawled, looking over the bookcases. Draco was quiet at his side.

"I don't know, I was trying to get information from her. Umbridge is sure they're trying to start a rebellion, she wants me to be her student informant. I hate it, really, but like hell I want my hands cut up by her blood quills," he admitted, and Snape raised a brow. He hated the toad of a woman who was hurting his students- even he wasn't that cruel. Not to mention the legal aspect.

"Your subtlety needs work. Clearly Granger won that battle," he remarked, and Draco just looked more stricken.

"She said something… unexpected, I guess. It just caught me off guard," he said, and when Snape did not reply he eventually continued. "She said it was a shame I had never been given a chance, because I had potential. What the hell does that even mean?"

Though Draco was attempting to look like he was just confused by her words, Snape could see that he was truly affected by them. Granger had hit a nerve, and it just reminded him of their talk about Slytherin. Clever girl, he mused, but shook off the thought.

"It means whatever you want. Don't let her get too deep in your head, Draco. She's your enemy, after all," he said enigmatically, and left his godson to think.

Clever girl indeed.

Harry refused, at first. But then he thought about it, and with Ron, Luna, and Ginny encouraging him, he finally broke down and agreed…. He would teach a defense against the dark arts study group. Hermione was elated- Harry was a great leader when he let himself, they needed to get more students on their side, and they all needed an actual education. She was quite proud, and a lot amused that it was Malfoy's fault

She mentally took notes of everyone's Patronuses- just in case they would be needed to identify who was communicating. Luna's cute rabbit hopped wildly through the air, Ginny's horse galloped close behind. Harry's stag watched from his side, and he tried to keep the emotion off his face and let pride shine through. Neville and Ron both had dogs of different breeds playing together on the floor, and Hermione readied her own wand.

From the ivy wand emerged a fluttering of feathers, and a fierce hawk emerged. She was surprised, but elated nonetheless. It instantly flew to roost in the roof, watching everything carefully, before she cancelled the spell.

The following lessons went well as Harry grew into his role as a leader, and everyone else learned how to sneak. She played down the praise for her communication galleons, but she was thinking it could be a useful bit of magic if she could expand on it. She was a little guilty to admit she wanted to recreate You-Know-Who's diary, sans an evil man inside.

It was when she was in the library looking at linking charms and communication in magic that Snape approached. He crept up like a shadow in her tucked away area- she liked the silence it afforded for being out of the way.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, and she looked up with some surprise and trepidation. He still had not apologized for snapping at her, and she doubted he ever would.

"Professor Snape, good evening," she greeted, eyeing him warily. He silently put up wards around them to ensure privacy.

"Potter will be learning Occulemncy from me, but you are going to truly teach him," he told her, and she furrowed her brow. Of course it wasn't an apology, but it was odd of him to request help.

"Excuse me?" she asked, and he sighed heavily.

"You are well aware of our… mutual dislike. Potter cannot respect me or the art enough to learn from me. He would fail out of spite. Ensure his arrogance does not cost him this valuable skill. Not only does the Headmaster believe he needs to learn to seal his mind, but… given your proclivity for breaking the rules, you may wish to hide it easier. I cannot guarantee that the troll of a pink zit would not go beyond trying to smash into your minds to find out what you are doing," he warned, and Hermione sat up straighter.

"I'll do why I can. But why? And what do you know, sir?" she asked, and he smirked.

"I know that you Gryffindors are insufferably not subtle at all when you attempt to build an army, but that comes as no surprise. Do try to keep from being caught, won't you?" he asked with tired resignation. She shook her head, though, and bit her lip before speaking.

"No, I know the professors are aware of our study group. Why is it important that Harry learn Occlumency?" she asked and he looked at his nails as if bored.

"It is hardly your concern. You know that it is important, that should be enough," he sniffed, and she scowled as she grabbed her books and prepared to leave.

"Is that how they treat you, their little spy? I would be nasty too, if I were treated so condescendingly," she retorted, and Snape advanced on her, pressing her against the bookcase by his sheer presence. In the back of his mind, he wondered if his godson would ever be able to reach his level of intimidation and doubted it. Hermione's brown eyes were wide as she stood against the bookcase, and she trembled.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for, I shouldn't have-"

"Do not EVER mention that again," he told her with clipped words, cutting off her rambling apology. "Teach Potter and stop asking questions. They won't make life any easier."

And with that, he left. Hermione peeled herself off the wall, chiding herself for forgetting how dangerous her professor truly was. She made a note to herself to find a way to approach Harry to help him after his lessons started, and left the library.

It was only because of the adrenaline rush that she ended up having the stupid dream.

That evening, Hermione dreamed of being in the library again. She was looking for someone through a strange maze of books, but she wasn't sure who. She just had to find them. She rounded a corner, and arms reached out and pinned her against a wall. The scent of sandalwood and simmering potions reached her nose, and dark hair tickled against her cheeks.

"Hermione," Professor Snape murmured, and the rough timbre of his voice sent shivers down the young woman's spine. She found herself unable to move, but wanted to reach out and touch the thick wool of his coat, or his dangling hair. His hand reached up instead, pressing against her throat. Even though she was choking and couldn't breathe, she still couldn't fight a moan from escaping when his lips captured her. He tasted of black coffee and bitter chocolate and she wanted the keep the taste in her mouth, even as she gasped for air. His other hand came around her throat, fully strangling her.

"I did not want to do this," he told her, sorrowful, but she couldn't find it in her to be mad as she blacked out, and woke up gasping.

"'Erminny…?" came Lavender's sleepy voice from across the room, and Hermione caught her breath.

"Sorry, Lavender, bad dream," she apologized, and the other girl made a sound before falling back asleep. Hermione got out of her bed and threw on her robe, knowing there would be no way in hell she could sleep. She grabbed her notebook and checked the back page, which she had charmed with a sort of Marauder's Map. It looked like the coast was clear, so she scrambled down to the grounds.

She could only think one thing: what the fuck was that?

Hermione felt disgusted from the attraction she had felt during the dream, how wanting and needy she was to feel his touch. He'd smelled nice, she supposed but that didn't excuse her weird dream.

She tried to dissect it, strip away any meaning, and leave it as just an odd occurrence. He'd scared her, he was a terrifying person. He could likely kill her, if he had to. And she was lonely and had, well, urges. They had just gotten mixed up was all.

A branch crunched, and Hermione looked up from her outdoor alcove and saw Professor Snape himself, hunched over and shuffling to the castle. He looked like death, and Hermione hated her instinct to help as she got up from where he hadn't noticed her and approached him.

"Professor?" she asked quietly, and he suddenly had his wand under her throat, his hand on the other side. Hermione gulped, raising her hands to show that she was not a threat. He closed his eyes and let her go as he swallowed a sigh. For her part, she hastily shoved her still fresh dream further down as his actions brought it to the forefront of her mind.

"Of fucking course. Go way, Miss Granger. I should give you detention," he said tiredly, and she looked at her slippered feet.

"Okay, give me detention. But let me help you first," she said boldly. Dream or not, he was clearly not doing well and needed assistance. He glared harshly at her, but it was weakened by his need to lean against the wall and his heavy breathing.

"You can do nothing here. Leave me now," he bit out, but she ignored him and pulled out her wand, running a basic diagnosis check. Her eyes went wide. He growled at her impudence.

"You have three broken ribs, Professor. I need to summon Madam Pomphrey!" she objected, and Snape hissed.

"Don't! If you insist on forcing your presence on me, you may escort me to my chambers. I have potions to help there. Then you will leave and never mention this again," he demanded, and Hermione nodded, taking his arm on his non-injured side. They did not speak as she helped him carefully down the stairs, trying to monitor how his breathing sounded to tell if he had pierced a lung.

For his part, Snape was secretly grateful for the help, though he would never mention it. He despised ever being seen as weak, and he despised the girl for refusing to leave him alone. It was a tense silence as they walked to the dungeons and at a juncture that Snape often patrolled, Hermione paused and pulled out her notebook with her free hand, opening to the back.

"Okay, it's clear all the way down," she whispered to him and tucked it back into her waistband, and Snape frowned at her.

"How would you know that?" he asked, and she gave him an unrepentant grin.

"An old friend," she answered mysteriously, and he grumbled. He hated that notebook, really. True to word, Hermione guided him safely and quickly to his office and he quickly shoved her off.

"I've made it, leave now," he demanded, and she put her hands on her lips, in full mothering mode.

"You can still barely stand. Why won't you let me just help you? It's not like I'm about to go blabbing it to the whole school. But as potions is one of my most thorough classes, I'd like to keep my professor able to work," she retorted and he repressed an annoyed groan.

"Look, I have healing potions inside. I'm going to down those and sleep. You are not needed. Return to your dorm immediately or I will start docking points," he ground out, and she frowned at him.

"Fine. This time," she said ominously, and turned on her heel. He watched her leave, sneaking down a hardly used corridor which would provide a significant shortcut to the library.

"Brat," he muttered and entered his office, summoning the potions he would need and chugging them down. He winced as he felt his ribs begin to lace together again, and went to his room to collapse on his bed. He magicked off his boots and coat and sighed as he realized it would be difficult to sleep that night.

Not that it was ever easy.

Still, he laid in his comfortable bed and willed himself to relax. At least it was just an accident from fetching potions ingredients in the forest. His master had done much worse to him before, and likely would again in the future.

Just as he started to finally sleep into slumber, a wild haired woman came to mind and with that, he was out.

It was because she had been so insistent on helping him, he would later rationalize, that he dreamed of her. She had forced him into dealing with her, and that was so fresh, so that was why she appeared like a succubus in the night.

He stirred in his bed as he heard someone outside his door- but when he went to investigate, it was not his same rooms. They were different in an odd and dreamy way, proportions different and lax. He found Hermione sitting in his armchair, book in her lap and smile on her face. She was wearing her school robe open, and did not appear to be wearing anything underneath. It was her older face that greeted him, with a warm and soft smile he felt uncomfortable seeing. The entire scene was uncomfortable.

"Severus," she greeted, rising. Her robe still provided her with modesty, though he could see the edges of her taut breasts and flat stomach before the robe closed over her hips. Her hair was wild but soft, and her eyes regarded him with a fire he did not expect. He could not approach her- even in a dream it was wholly wrong, but the awareness of the dream did not make it end.

She took a step forward but stopped, pain and confusion flitting across her face. A small streak of blood poured from the corner of her mouth, and her hand went to her chest and came away bloody, revealing a nasty gash from the tip of her shoulder down to her hip, arcing out towards her neck and navel.

"Oh," she whispered, and collapsed into his arms. He knew that gash, he knew that curse, and the fear of it woke him suddenly.

He could only hope it wasn't a premonition.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry's occlumency lessons were not going well on either front. He had told Hermione about his difficulty with them from Snape, but her tactics were not going well either. He either wasn't really practicing, or wasn't making much effort at all. It was one night as Christmas approached that she realized it.

Harry had awoken with a terrible vision about Mr. Weasley being attacked in the Ministry, and it was this vision that saved his life. Harry and the Weasley kids went home to the Burrow, to St. Mungos, and Hermione was left to find out in the morning, feeling extremely put out. A snide voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she didn't tell them important stuff either so she had no right to be upset, but it did not stop her from wanting to cry anyway. She also loved Mr. Weasley, and worried about his condition.

Hermione went to her usual secluded alcove outside to cry it out, not having wanted to bother anyone else with her emotional state. Of course, the last person she wanted to see her crying was who found her.

"What, did Pot-head and the Weasel leave you for each other?" sneered Draco Malfoy, and Hermione furiously rubbed the tears out of her eyes, screeching with frustration.

"Not now, Malfoy, piss off!" she yelled at him, and made to get away. She wasn't in any state to deal with his antics. But despite him being younger than her, he was still bigger and stronger and a Quidditch player, so he was able to block her exit easily.

"Not so fast, Granger. I want to watch you cry. It's what you deserve," he sneered, and Hermione roughly shoved him away from herself.

"Malfoy, for God's sake! Leave me alone! Not every interaction has to be some creepy threat!" she yelled, frustrated, and he frowned.

"It always has been, why stop now?" he asked, leering at her but not fully meaning it. She looked at him sadly, as she had before, and shook her head.

"Why continue? If it weren't for you constantly being rude to me and my friends, you could be a half decent person. Did it occur to you that maybe I don't want to fight? You or anyone else I've known since I was a kid?" she said, speaking softly. This disarmed Draco again, and she slipped by him, going for the more secluded abandoned girl's restrooms to finish her cry.

She was so nearly there, too, when she ran quite literally into someone else.

"Oh, for the love of God," she muttered under her breath as she looked up to see Snape looking down at her, confusion clear on his face.

"Miss Granger? I would have thought you would be at St. Mungos," he said, and she pulled herself to her feet with a frown.

"Yes, well, that would require anyone remembering me in the commotion, or thinking that I might care to see Mr. Weasley. I do not count as family," she said curtly, and he eyed her for a moment. She was clearly upset, her lip had been worried to where it had nearly bled. Her eyes were red rimmed and she looked like hell, honestly.

"Come, follow me to my office," he ordered and walked off before she could agree. She struggled to catch up, but easily met his long strides despite her shorter legs- the boys were so much taller, she had gotten used to walking fast. They reached his office quickly, and he let her inside and closed the door behind them.

To her surprise, he then opened the door again to his private quarters, and she followed with mild hesitation. He gestured to the couch and then left into another room, where she could hear the sounds of tea being prepared. She sat delicately on the edge, as if the entire room was going to collapse if she touched anything.

She hadn't really thought to look around, last time, so she took the chance while she had it. The room was lit brighter than she expected, but generally was still a little dark. The furniture was somewhat plush, and the couch was comfortable and had a soft throw blanket on it. But what really caught her eye were the walls covered from floor to tall ceiling with books.

Despite being shown the couch, Hermione could not resist getting up to look at the titles, and felt a pang of envy as she read some of titles. They were extremely rare and niche titles ranging from potions to arithimacy to transfiguration. She nearly swooned when she recognized some of them- and their importance. Perhaps more surprising was the amount of Muggle literature more centered towards the bottom of the shelves, but still well cared for.

Snape entered again with a tea service floating behind him. He raised a brow at her and took a seat in the armchair.

"I won't say I'm surprised. Be careful not to touch any on the shelf nearest the hallway- they are fairly dangerous. That shelf is more benign," he mentioned, and Hermione took her seat with a slight blush.

"Sorry, sir," she apologized, but he waved it off.

"No need. I knew they would garner your attention. Now, Miss Granger. I'm going to offer you a very rare opportunity to let it out. I know that you are understandably upset and frustrated given last night's events. There are not many here who would be able to bear knowledge of your exploits, but you clearly need to speak with someone," he explained, and she stared at him for a moment. He handed her a cup of tea- chamomile and lavender. She could tell by the smell.

"Sir?" she said, confused. She looked at her tea and and back at him, feeling quite small. Suddenly she felt more like a child, and she rested the cup against her knee. He took a sip of the tea himself. It was a relaxing blend he had made on his own. He was quiet, but raised a brow towards her. He wasn't going to explain himself twice. She seemed to be ready to give in, though, and after a couple more moments and some sips of her tea she started to speak.

"You know, I spent a lot of time at the Burrow this last summer. Ginny had asked if I could stay a few weeks, so I did, and that is the most loving and sweet family I have ever known. Mr. Weasley asked me a million questions about mundane Muggle objects, but he was infinitely interested in just me as a person, too. He's a very gentle and kind man, who did not deserve to be attacked at all. Let alone to that extent… Professor McGonagall informed me this morning but had to leave on business right after. Why Mr. Weasley? And why was he at the MInistry so late at night?" she asked, and Snape sighed heavily.

"He was there on Order business. The Dark Lord found him, but I believe he was left alive to send a message of warning," he answered. Hermione furrowed her brows and took a sip of her tea. He could see her mind whirling.

"That… that's worrisome. But Professor, how… how did Harry know? He should not have any way of knowing," she said, and for once Snape did not have an answer for her. She was looking at him expectantly, but he stayed quiet as her mind continued to work. "Is that why the Headmaster wanted him to learn Occlumency?"

"Perhaps. He has not shown much improvement since our lessons began. I trust you have given it effort," he said, eyes focused on hers, and she nodded.

"I've asked him to meditate, to try to focus on clearing his mind, to focus on walls, or the feeling of someone else in his mind and how to move it away from important things, everything I've ever read I've tried to impart to him, but I don't think he really put in the effort he told me he did," she admitted, looking frustrated again. He knew she would have given it her full Granger effort, but no one really could have known if Potter was putting in the effort he needed to.

"I'm afraid this was more than a message to the Order. What if… what if it was more a test on Harry?" she admitted quietly. Once again, Snape did not have an answer, but privately wondered the same thing.

"You cannot let him make any actions on his own if this happens again. He needs to meet with Dumbledore or Minerva, any adult. Do not let him run out on his own," he instructed her, and Hermione nodded, a little paler than before.

"There's something else. I think Draco Malfoy may be up to something," she admitted, and he raised his brow.

"I was under the impression from him that it was you who was up to something, telling him enigmatic things," he retorted, and she snorted in response.

"Ah yes, only honesty can be enigmatic to you lot," she said, and he grinned predatorily.

"To Slytherins?" he asked.

"To those who want everything shrouded in ten layers of secrecy, where you need a decoder ring to figure anything out," she countered. He couldn't help but bark out a laugh, startling her with the rich baritone of his laughter. What startled her more was that she rather liked it. That was a thought to shove aside, she mentally chided.

"A fair point to be made," he conceded, and she smiled warmly at seeing his own smile. It was an odd, peaceful moment that she hadn't expected- and neither had he. All too suddenly they thought of their respective dreams, and looked away. Hermione with a pretty blush to her cheeks.

"What is it you believe Mr. Malfoy to be up to?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"To be honest, I don't really know. He hasn't directly threatened me, but he's been extra nasty lately. I don't think he's called me a mudblood for a while, at least," she said, and noticed that Snape flinched at the word.

"Do not speak that word near me, it is foul and nothing that should be used to describe yourself," he said strongly, and she was surprised by his response.

"Yes, sir. Thank you. But Malfoy, I think he's gotten a bit more physical about it," she said, and explained how he had managed to corner her and pin her and grabbed her arms.

"It may sound odd or vain, but… I wonder if he might have a crush on me. It would be a very childish way to express it, but it makes sense if he's supposed to despise everything about me," she admitted quietly, and Snape paused, considering what she had said. A beat later, she cursed to herself and leaned forward resting her head against her hands in an expression of defeat.

"And I think I went and encouraged it earlier," she growled, and told him what the last thing she'd told Draco was- that she thought he could be half decent if he was nice and that she didn't want to fight him. Now Snape well and truly laughed, and could hardly contain himself at seeing her incredulous expression. She started to laugh herself just at the sight of him doubling over in his chair, face stretched with laughter.

"Good lord, you practically begged him to fall in love with you!" he cackled, and she swatted his leg.

"I did not! I've just been encouraging him to be nicer! I didn't think of it in that way!" she defended, and he wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Lord knows I've needed a laugh like that, oh, thank you Miss Granger," he said, and she smiled at him despite herself. It felt like a privilege to hear his laughter, and it gave her a surge of warmth in her chest. Even if it was at her expense.

"You're welcome," she found herself murmuring and he didn't seem to notice. Instead, his smile faded and the look of world weariness appeared again.

"That could create… complications, if that is the case. It may make you a target, even if you never tried for that. You should be wary of future interactions. I don't know what he might be capable of. He has been increasing unpredictable," he warned, and Hermione nodded. That was nothing she didn't already know.

"Mm, it's a shame, you know. I really do think he could be a good person, I could see being friends with him. If he didn't hate me purely based on what he thinks is inferior breeding," she sighed, then grinned cheekily. "He still wouldn't be my type, though."

At that, Snape snorted. It was an undignified sound, but he still quirked a grin.

"And what a fascinating discussion that would be, Miss Granger. At any rate, I'll see one issue rectified. The holidays are nearly upon us, go on and gather your things and I will escort you to the Burrow so you may rejoin your friends. You ought to have been there all along," he told her, taking her cup from her and banishing it back to the kitchen. She looked at him wide eyed from where he stood over her, afraid to trust him.

"Really, sir? That would be very lovely, thank you," she told him, and stood up, facing him with a full smile. They stood close to each other for a few moments, both having an odd moment of deja vu. Snape was the first to recover, shaking off a feeling of fear that suddenly overcame him.

"Go on, Miss Granger. Be back here within an hour and I shall grant you Floo access. It will take that long to set it up," he instructed, and led her to the door. Once there, she turned around again, this time with a much shier smile.

"You can call me Hermione, sir," she told him before slipping out, leaving him shaking his head at her impropriety and entirely ignoring his own by having brought her into his living quarters once again. He also ignored the part of his mind telling him that all his other upset students would have been dealt with just in his office. It was a sensitive matter, he justified, that could not be interrupted so easily.

But even that logic did not explain the odd feeling he received from her turning her full smile on him, bright and vibrant and warm. It stirred a part of him that had died years ago, one he forgot how to name or understand and did not want to think about much longer. He turned to his fireplace instead, and began the process of reconnecting his Floo into the main network for a limited time.

He did not think about why he would go through such effort for a girl he decidedly did not care about one way or the other.

Meanwhile, Hermione was frantically packing for the Christmas holidays. She needed to make sure she had all the books she needed, including studying up more on nonverbal spells so she could discuss them with Harry- their classes really should be focusing on them at this point, or at least putting out the framework for it. She also grabbed her notebook, a packet of fresh pens, and her coziest sweaters, and put a grumpy Crookshanks in his cat carrier. Satisfied that she had all she would need for the next few weeks, and after dropping off her homework that she had completed weeks earlier, Hermione ventured down to the dungeons again without incident.

Snape glared at the orange fluff that was glaring out of his box.

"What on earth is that?" he asked, at which Crookshanks growled. Hermione frowned at him, turning up her nose.

"His name is Crookshanks. He's half Kneazle and my familiar," she said somewhat defensively. He rolled his eyes and lead her to the fireplace and handed her a pot of ashes.

"Keep a strong hold on your cat and get out of the way quickly, I will send your things after you," he instructed and Hermione nodded, and took a pinch of powder from the offered jar.

"Yes sir, and thank you again. It means a lot to me, I consider myself owing you a favor," she told him, eyes serious. He frowned and looked over her head, trying not to sigh.

"Keep from getting into even more trouble and I will consider it even, girl. Now off with you, I still have classes to teach and papers to grade," he scolded, and she left quickly.

On the other end of the Floo, Hermione arrived to open arms pulling her into an embrace. Red hair and black hair mixed in her vision, and she heard Crookshanks yowl as he dropped from her grip. There was an overwhelming amount of chatter, to the point that Hermione could no longer distinguish voices from each other. She attempted to pull the boys further from the fireplace or yell at them, but it was lost in the cacophony and they all got pushed over into the floor when a black figure emerged from the fireplace.

"For Merlin's sake, children, out of the floor!" Snape barked, yanking Hermione up by her arm as her two best friends scrambled to their feet. They looked utterly unrepentant for having caused all the chaos, but the presence of the dour potions professor certainly lent a calmness to the atmosphere. Hermione brushed herself off with an apologetic look to her professor, who just rolled his eyes.

"Molly, I came to check on Arthur. I have more potions for him, and I believe that Miss Granger had been left behind accidentally. I am sure you are not opposed to my rectifying the situation," he said, addressing the matriarch who smiled happily.

"Of course, Severus! I'll take you up to his room at St. Mungos- limited access and all. Hermione, dear, I'm sure Ginny will love to have you stay in her room again, go on and put your things away," she instructed and lead Professor Snape up the stairs. Ron and Harry watched them go before hugging Hermione tightly again.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry we forgot to get you! Things were happening so quickly, and we didn't think Dad would make it," Ron explained, voice cracking. Even though Hermione wanted to be upset with them for not thinking at her, she still hugged them tight.

"It's alright, I know it's been stressful as ever. I'm glad he seems to be recovering, isn't he?" she asked, and was brought up to date on Arthur's condition. She was not surprised to learn that Snape had been the one to supply the antidote, but was shocked at how her friends highly doubted Snape until Arthur had pulled through- they had been convinced he was trying to finish the job.

"How dare you, Harry! Professor Snape has done nothing but saved your life every time the chance has been given. He may be rude, but he is not a murderer. You ought to feel ashamed for ever thinking he could hurt Mr. Weasley. And Ron, I know you don't like him but he's been close with your parents for years- they've said as much. How could you ever think he would want to hurt your dad?" she lectured, feeling guilty on their behalf.

Snape was by no means a nice person, she knew that clearly. But he had never let them down in times when they needed him- as a professor, they had an extreme sense of caution regarding dangerous and sometimes fatal ingredients. He threw himself in front of a werewolf to save them even after being stunned by the children. Hell, he'd been trying to countercurse Harry's broom for him back during their first year.

"Sorry, Hermione… you're right. But come on, he is right nasty all the time! I think he gets off on making us think he's about to kill us," Ron whispered conspiratorially, and Hermione swatted his arm with a startled laugh. After she chided his rudeness the trio slipped into their comfortable friendship once again, with the added chaos that was the Weasley household. They all welcomed Hermione and apologized for not having grabbed her, but after the third reassurance of Mrs. Weasley, Hermione was starting to feel agitated.

Thankfully Fred and George were able to provide a distraction.

"Hermione! Our dear princess," started George.

"Do we have a delight to show you," finished Fred.

Hermione followed them up to their room and lab combo, and the rambunctious twins had a great time showing off their prototype of Skivving Snackboxes- sickly treats to help you get out of class. At first she wanted to roll her eyes or tell them off, but the look of calculation and glee that came across her face instead was something that intrigued and frightened Fred and George.

"You boys are so brilliant, I could kiss you!" she declared as she looked through the boxes, each carefully labeled with the effects of the delicious looking treats. The boys looked at each other and waggled their brows suggestively.

"Well coming from a witch as lovely as yourself, that would be acceptable payment," they said together, grinning mischievously. Neither was prepared for her look of consideration before actually grabbing them both by the collar to pull them down and kiss their cheeks.

"There! You're brilliant!" she said, and then pulled out her notebook. "Fred, George. George, Fred. How would you like to try to avoid the biggest amount of trouble in your life?"

She told them of the plan she had just come up with- Not only helping students avoid Umbridge's classes, but making _Umbridge_ avoid her own classes. It was risky, knowingly poisoning a teacher, but Fred and George were absolutely on board.

"Hermione, you're so brilliant!" decreed Fred with a wide grin.

"We could kiss you!" George followed up, and both boys quickly smooched her lips before she could scramble away. Her face went instantly red and she shoved them both off and ran down to Ginny's room, thoroughly embarrassed. They had been echoing her words of excitement earlier, but those boys always did know how to take it a step too far. It felt odd to her to kiss her best friend's brothers, who felt like her own family in a way. Not to say she didn't enjoy the quick peck but… it wasn't right either. It felt off in a way beyond just being teased- they just did not feel right to her.

Hermione knew she would be enduring teasing from the twins for a while, and sighed to herself. It wasn't the worst first kiss in the world, she supposed.

The next day, after a long night with Ginny talking about her relationships with both Harry and Luna and how that worked and was going (extremely well, Ginny had enthused), Hermione joined Harry and Molly in going over to the Burrow. Harry desperately wanted to spend more time with Sirius, Molly wanted to clean the house for a Christmas celebration there, and Hermione didn't want to leave Harry alone.

It wasn't that she didn't like Sirius- she did, most times. But she was afraid of his influence on Harry and his thrill for danger crossing over. She would never mention it to Harry out of fear of him cutting her out of his life or worse, making a petty decision based on it. However, when they had made a Floo call to Sirius regarding Dumbledore's Army, Hermione had half hoped he would have talked Harry out of it, or at least into toning it down. Sirius wanted to increasing the visibility of their resistance and even nearly got caught himself.

It was worrisome at the very least.

Harry did appreciate her coming with, though, he told her later when they were cleaning a larger bedroom for the twins to use when they came by later.

"I'm glad you're here, Hermione. You've been like a sister to me the past couple of years and I want my family to all get along. Also… I feel so nervous with him still. There are so many things I want to ask him but I don't want to overwhelm him, but at the same time, I'm not sure if he really understands either," he quietly admitted, and Hermione put her arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, Harry. You know you couldn't bother Sirius if you tried. He loves you dearly and is just as unsure in this situation," she told him reassuringly, wishing to God Ron had been there as well. The redhead could be rude a lot of the time, but he was incredibly good at picking up on exactly what to say to people in more emotional moments whereas Hermione was too much of a problem solver to be much use.

Still, Harry smiled and leaned against Hermione for a quiet moment of solidarity. She took comfort in them both having slow, steady heartbeats. There was no awkwardness as sometimes happened with Ron or the other Weasley brothers on occasion. It was reassuring.

"What would Luna say?" she asked him, and bit her tongue from trying not to laugh at his embarrassed face. He turned pink and shrugged.

"Honestly, probably something that would make me stop and think for a moment. I think that's why she speaks in riddles… not to be complicated or weird, but because it makes you actually use your mind. She's a real life saver with it sometimes," he admitted with a dopey smile.

"Well, I'm happy for you in that regard. This room is as clean as it gets, so let's break for lunch," Hermione suggested, and the two friends went off to the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

Sirius, may I speak with you a moment?" Hermione asked in her patented "good girl" voice- the kind that got teachers to trust her enough with time magic. Sirius grinned brightly at her from where he sat in the library and motioned for her to join him on the couch.

"Of course! Any friend of my godson is a friend of mine. What's on your mind?" he asked kindly, never able to break from the roguishness that was his nature. Hermione perched on the couch edge to maintain some distance in a polite way, and gave him a small smile.

"Well, I have a gift idea for Harry. Well, and for you, but I need help making it," she said as if she weren't lying through her teeth. He sat up, head quirked with curiosity reminding her entirely too much of his dog form.

"What sort of gift?" he asked.

"I wanted to make you linked journals, so you can write back and forth and communicate easier. I'm not sure if Harry would accept it easily, it may remind him of You-Know-Who's journal from his second year, but I know he misses you dearly in the school year and you both have so much catching up to do…. I thought it might help," she explained, sounding unsure of herself and doubting herself even as she spoke. She hated it, but knew that the self conscious teenage girl trope would be easiest to get his help with. And she needed his magical signature. He smiled warmly- and perhaps a little condescendingly.

"Of course I'll help. I'm sure that Harry would appreciate the gesture over any similarities. And perhaps giving us a way to talk not face to face, and more opportunity… perhaps then he can open up to me more. I know he's still nervous," Sirius admitted, and Hermione nodded with a consoling smile. Only because nearly every damn adult in charge of him has traumatized him, Hermione thought grimly but did not let it show.

"I know you worked on the Marauder's map, so I thought it might be nice to add a similar one to your copy- to see if Harry is going to classes, sneaking out, that sort of thing. Help you feel more like his guardian," she offered, slipping more into his scholarly friend than helpless girl. She'd push her glasses up her nose if she wore them. Sirius froze a moment but nodded.

"You're right, it does still feel weird being in charge so late in his life. I think I'd like that, yes. Do you have the journals here? We could get started today, if you'd like. Christmas is coming up fast," he offered, and Hermione nodded and excused herself to grab the journals. Matching Gryffindor colors, of course. She'd charmed a cute design on the fronts of them, minimalistic but sentimental. A black dog was on Harry's, the shape of the Grim and his godfather. Sirius had a golden snitch on the front of his, to signify his godson's favorite passion outside of the war.

Sirius, of course, adored the little touches and gave Hermione a wink at her thoughtfulness, surely assuming her care went beyond her sisterly affection. Well, Harry could be the one to tell him he had two girlfriends already, and as daft as it seemed, Harry was too young for Hermione to feel comfortable dating anymore.

Not that she would feel comfortable dating anyone until the war was won.

Hermione chatted lightly with Sirius while they worked- letting him handle the magical heavy lifting and acting like she didn't know how, and found he was quite open with talking about all the gossip from the Order of the Phoenix pre war and now.

Hestia Jones had a bit of scandal in her more youthful days for taking up briefly with Andromeda Tonks- Nymphadora's mother, back in Hogwarts. Apparently she still only dated women and that was part of what kept her from moving up in the department. Andromeda and Ted was an odd thing, not just for the so called blood purity differences, but because Andromeda had favored women over men until him. Hestia had been devastated at the time, but the two were good friends again recently. Dumbledore, too, had only dated men as far as anyone knew- and no one for the past sixty odd years.

Of course, Sirius did wax poetic about his own relationship with Remus until fifteen years ago, and got a sad look in his eyes at reminding himself that time of their relationship was over. Hermione had suspected, but still patted him on the back consolingly.

He went on more about past relationships, new ones, his suspicions, and petty quables for a while while waving his wand, continuing even after finishing the journals. Hermione noticed that one name had not come up, and couldn't quell her curiosity.

"What about Professor Snape? Everyone has such interesting connections, but what of him?" she asked, feeling her back tingle with knowing he would be absolutely furious. Sirius, for his part, sneered in an ugly way and shrugged.

"That overgrown bat couldn't have a half decent conversation if he tried, so no one would ever care enough about him to feel angry or attracted," he spat, and Hermione startled at the venom in his voice. They both hated each other so much, but she still couldn't tell why.

"That's a strong opinion to make it sound like people feel neutral," she ventured and he took the bait, starting to ramble while pacing- a habit Harry also had, she noted.

"There's no neutral about it- hard to feel angry when the only thing he deserves is hate! He's a nasty man, no scruples or morals, and would sell the shirt off your back if it benefited him in the slightest. I know he slimed his way into teaching your lot, but don't trust him enough to turn your back for a second- he'd hex you where you stand!" Sirius huffed.

"He attacked you?" Hermione asked with a shocked hand coming up to her face. Sirius barked a laugh.

"Of course he did, the nasty little Slytherin! He hexed all of us! Snivellus couldn't stand his lot in life compared to ours, I suppose- having friends and a future. Never bothered with the first part, so how could he secure the second? He's a nasty brute, don't go near him," he warned, and Hermione dutifully nodded, looking as scared as the situation required.

"Of course. I don't really see him outside of class. But I know he's part of the Order, so I suppose I was just curious about why he's so trusted then," she said.

"Dumbledore insists we do, and he's our leader. He's told us that he's our spy, and he's given us some amount of good information, I concede. However, I still think he's just playing us into Voldemort's hands," he spat, sitting down and grumpy.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you Sirius, I was just curious. I'll be careful," she assured him, and Sirius shook off his anger and gave her a charming smile.

"I know you will, love. You're a good girl," he said, and Hermione suppressed a disgusted shiver. She forced a smile and grabbed a book off the shelf.

"Thank you. I've got to go help Harry study now, but thank you for helping me and talking with me," she said, taking the journals as well. Sirius jovially wished her luck and went back to staring out the window, a man bored of life.


	7. Chapter 7

"Harry, for God's sake, if you don't sit your ass down and stop pacing I will strangle you and save Voldemort the trouble!" Hermione snapped from her spot on the floor, and it was enough to give Harry pause.

"I'm sorry, I'm just worried!" he defended, and she glared and snapped and pointed her fingers to the spot in front of her.

"You wouldn't be so worked up if you could just try to relax and meditate! Trust me, Harry, this is an important skill and I know you haven't practiced at all, please humor me," she nearly begged. She'd been trying all break to get him to try to practice Occlumency, but he was too worried about having another vision to pay attention. Even now, as he sat, his brows were furrowed and his foot jiggled with nervous energy.

"Harry, listen to me. I know you are worried about having another vision- so am I. But let's try an exercise in thinking right now instead of meditating. I need you to understand the importance of trying hard here. You had a vision that Mr. Weasley was attacked, and you were the snake attacking him," she said. Here, he flinched.

"But please understand my worry here. What if that was a test from Voldemort? To know that your mind is open to manipulate and he can put in whatever he wants? What if next time is a trap? This is why I need you to clear your mind and focus- so he can't manipulate you anymore than he already has."

Harry froze and went pale, and nodded slowly. Hermione took his hands, leaning forward and putting his palms over hers.

"Now, I'm going to use magic to try to help you, okay? I'll link our magic, and that will let me ease you into my mind and show you how I do it, which may make it easier for you. But first, I need you to clear your mind so you don't bring anything over with you," she explained, and he took a deep breath.

"Okay… I'll try," he finally relented, and Hermione gave him a genuine smile. She helped guide his breathing and felt him relaxing, and brought him slowly over to her mind.

Walls of books surrounded him, and Hermione's voice guided him.

"Go ahead, try to grab one," she offered, and Harry pulled a book from the shelf. It fell open, but only gibberish came out. He put it back and tried again to the same effect.

"Every book will have that response right now. Now, try saying please first," she nudged, and Harry felt quite silly as he asked the bookcase "please."

The book opened, and an image projected into the room like a 3-D movie. Hermione and Harry stood side by side, both prideful as they watched patronuses flying around the room. Harry, proud of his students. And Hermione, proud of her friend being a leader. The book closed itself and returned, and the walls faded away as Hermione returned him to his own mind.

The two grinned goofily, but Hermione was quick to return to lecture mode.

"I know you won't want anything like a library, but there are a load of options. Do what feels natural to you- it's like a Patronus, in a way. It requires focus and practice, but you're a smart boy, Harry. You can do this," she told him seriously, and he smiled sheepishly.

"I do have a question. Why did I have to say please?" he asked, and Hermione gave him a scary grin.

"Like hell Voldemort would stop to be polite" she told him, and the two burst out laughing.


	8. Chapter 8

The Order held a meeting just before Christmas, lending a somber feeling to the cheerfully decorated Headquarters. Hermione felt an odd pull of happiness at seeing Snape arrive, though he looked dreadful. The holidays were wearing on him heavily, and Molly's coddling was only annoying him, even if he would never tell her off. He made eye contact with Hermione and raised a brow over dinner. The meeting would be after, and Hermione found herself wishing desperately to talk to him. Spending time with Harry and the Weasley's had been lovely, but she did miss their open sessions, even if she had become more guarded again. She found herself wanting his opinion and approval for the several things she'd been working on- sans time turner.

She hadn't expected him to actually visit afterward.

It was near midnight when they finally came out of the meeting, and Hermione had been studying in her room when a single soft knock grabbed her attention. She used a peephole spell then let in Snape, who was disillusioned outside her door.

"Sneaking around, Professor?" she teased, and he growled in response.

"Update me on Potter," he grunted instead of playing around. Not that she expected anything less.

"I think I've gotten him to understand the severity of his need to learn, which is a late start but better than never. He's still having difficulty, but it's starting to take shape," she reported. Snape nodded, and leaned against the door for a moment.

"You're exhausted, sir, please have a seat," she offered, and to her surprise he did without fighting.

"You've been making eyes at me all evening, witch. Go on, tell me your discoveries," he said as if that were a normal activity they shared. She supposed it was, but still blushed at his wording. She did not make eyes at people.

"You won't like it, but I'm spying," she said, and he sat up with a furious expression, at which she put up her hands. She was amazed he trusted her enough to not continue to fly off the handle.

"On Harry and Sirius. I don't trust him as a guardian. He's going to cause Harry to be even more reckless than he already is. But I have a plan," she explained.

"Praytell, what could that be?" he sneered, and she grinned, pointing at a green journal on her desk. Different from the plain black one that she had hidden under her pillow.

"I've made linked journals for them. Sirius helped me, so I got his magical signature to track if we need it, which we will. I have a proposal I would like to bring to the Order, but I can't enter the organization yet. I'd like you, the biggest naysayer, to hear me out first."

Snape looked at the journal, with a simple flower design on the front. It was very unassuming for being a nifty bit of spywork, one only accomplished by being in someone's good graces. Again he thought it a shame she wasn't a Slytherin.

"I hate it already, but go on," he said with a sigh, fearing he knew what she would say.

"Sirius should be let out on very small, supervised, and Polyjuiced trips," she said plainly, and he stood immediately despite his exhaustion. She held her ground with her chin jutted out and arms behind her back, huffing out her chest. He realized she had taken her bracelet off when he wasn't looking, and her chest was bigger than normal. He looked away.

"Sirius Black is an idiot and a reckless one at that. He would quickly be kidnapped and murdered, and Potter an inconsolable mess. What could possibly be good about that?" he asked.

"It's a risk, I know. But I think if we allow him a small amount of freedom, out of this house, he might think more clearly. Currently, at the smallest chance to go fight he will, and he will go out in a blaze, and he won't think of Harry. This would be a multi-step process. First, to monitor his and Harry's communication to make sure he isn't urging Harry into more bad decisions to live vicariously through him. Then, introduce the idea to Dumbledore- I can make a stock of Polyjuice beforehand, I'd like to monitor him at least a month before I would want to make the motion. Then, track him with my journal. Know exactly where he's gone. If we could, if an auror is available to tail him that would be best. Let him breathe fresh air, get more attached to Harry as himself, not a small James, and maybe he will think more clearly instead of being bait that would go running to a trap," she explained.

Sometimes Snape hated how much thought she put into her arguments. It was difficult to tell her she was wrong.

"I cannot say I approve, but it is not…. The worst plan you could have." he admitted, and she smiled brightly at his comment- as close to approval as he would get. Then, she fidgeted.

"There is something else," she admitted, and crossed the room to her trunk. She pulled out a small wrapped rectangle and presented it to him.

"A Christmas gift, sir. Well, more a token of appreciation for helping me this year. I fully expect you won't use it much, but just in case," she said, still fidgeting. He opened it, and raised his brow. A simple black notebook greeted him, with a silver snake inlay. He opened it to find cream pages and pale green lines. He looked up at her, confused.

"A journal, Miss Granger?" he asked, and she blushed, damn her. It was not the first time since their meeting, and he did not deserve her flushed cheeks

"I put all my connection notes inside, a school map that will alert you to nearby students when you patrol, and linked it to my journal. If you need to reach me, just tap a page and say "knock knock" and I have to reply with my own code to answer. What you write is gone as soon as you put it in, and only you can see the notes, if you link your magical signature to it. Don't worry, I haven't put the trace on yours- it's purely like a password," she explained. "And, it has an extension charm on it, so it should never run out of pages. You can search the auto created index or by page number, but you can just use it for whatever you would like as well."

He stared at her, saying nothing. He hadn't had a Christmas gift beyond Molly's baked goods since… Lily. He would not get choked up, he would not feel touched at the level of thought and effort that went into it.

"Well, you don't have to use it, I just thought it may be helpful. And, with those notes, you don't need to meet with me anymore. I can keep helping with potions, but I know my silly opinions must be getting annoying. That's the true gift."

"No," he said, and she stopped, looking at him with trepidation. She hadn't felt this nervous and self conscious in a long time, but seeing the look on his face reassured her that he was deeply touched.

"I will still require your outlook on certain matters. It has been enlightening and I shall continue with your pre-apprenticeship. I cannot say I will make use of the note writing, but I do… appreciate this," he said, and looked her in the eye. "And that is your gift, Hermione."

With that, he left.

And Hermione realized she was well and truly fucked.


	9. Chapter 9

She was not starting to have a crush on Snape. Definitely not, not allowed, not happening. He was brash and rude and horrendous to her and her friends, even if he did let her ramble in his presence every few weeks. He was still a dangerous spy, and her a young girl. It was not happening. She appreciated his friendship and his allowance for her to be honest, that was all. She absolutely did not find his rare smile or laugh attractive. It was not going to happen.

Hermione very nearly skipped breakfast the next day, but forced herself to be reasonable and keep a cool head. It would not be the worst thing in the world if she was growing attracted to her potion's professor. Only the second worst, next to the war. She was grateful she had already had so much practice with Occluding that she was able to put the thought deep into the library of her mind, back into the Restricted Section where she kept her deeply personal memories and thoughts.

It became easier for her to push it away as the boys thundered down the stairs, from Harry and Ron on up through Sirius Black. Hermione was nearly done with her cinnamon and honey oatmeal, and was glad to clear the table with their rowdiness as Molly served out plates of bacon and sausage, fried eggs and toast with pitchers of juice and milk. Hermione was glad to see Sirius sitting across from Harry, and the two were speaking in lower toned voices- about the latest in Quidditch, she figured out, and she was glad to see them bonding. The Weasley boys were loud as they ever were during the morning, with boisterous laughter as Ron described a dream he'd had the night before and the twins immediately began to joke about it. Ginny came down soon after, settling in easily with her siblings but still sitting near Harry, who kept glancing at her and blushing.

It quieted when Professor Snape entered the room, looking like he hadn't slept at all since Hermione had seen him. She scolded her heart as it leapt for a moment, and focused more on how he was doing. His eyes were bloodshot, and a dark stubble had appeared along his jaw. His already pale skin looked even more shallow, and she was sure he had a more pronounced limp. Without him looking at anyone else, he approached Molly and leaned in to whisper to her, which Hermione strained to hear.

"Another one targeted. Elizabet DeLacroix, tonight at 10. Warn the Order," he whispered and left without any further details. Molly's face went ashen, and she looked at Sirius, who immediately stood. He nodded without saying anything further, and went back up the stairs, presumably to get the rest of the present Order together for a meeting.

"Children, go upstairs. The Order is going to have an emergency meeting," Molly said, shooing out her children while Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as he went to protest. With a look to Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny, they all silently knew to go sit together in one room. Once they crowded into Harry and Ron's shared room, Hermione locked the door.

"They're going to be trying to prevent another disappearance. I heard Professor Snape telling Mrs. Weasley a name and a time. That must be what they're meeting about now," she said, and sat on the floor. The others were quiet for a moment, until Harry decided to speak.

"What if it's a trap?" he asked, and Hermione shot him a harsh look. They had just had that conversation a couple days prior- how could he already be on that again? Harry gave her a frustrated look and started pacing. She knew he was gearing up to rant, and decided to let him get it out before shutting him down. What was annoying her the most was how all the Weasley's were already nodding in agreement before Harry even started.

"Look, we're all aware the disappearances have been the work of Death Eaters. I know we're supposed to trust Snape and all, but it would be incredibly easy to set us up to wipe out part of the Order, or at least expose them, by sending us to Death Eaters," he started, and Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Harry, you know that's absurd logic. How is the Order to ever bring down any Death Eaters if they never engage them? The whole purpose of the Order of the Phoenix is to win a war! A war cannot be fought without battles. Every adult in that meeting room knows the risk, they knew it before and they came back to fight again. Professor Snape has had plenty of opportunity, this war and the last, to bring us down and he hasn't. He is not on Voldemort's side, he's on _ours_. And it's about time you realize that," she fumed, suddenly fed up with the childishness of her friends. How could they not see the bigger picture, the the spy beyond the terrible professor? Of course he could never be kind to any of them, to do so would bring Voldemort's wrath down upon him! Not that anyone in the room had ever done anything to warrant a change in his behavior. Harry looked furious.

"Just because you're up his arse doesn't mean the rest of us ought to be! I've seen! I know you've been sneaking off with him!" he accused, face turning red with anger. Hermione took a step back, frightened by him turning on her. It was a rare occurrence, but it was never a pleasant experience. She felt four pairs of Weasley eyes train on her, and felt sweat begin to drip down her back from nerves.

"I've been doing a trial run for a potion's apprenticeship, not that it's your concern. Professor McGonagall was the one who talked him into it. I've been the one making the infirmary's potion's this year. I hadn't told you because I knew this would be your reaction, just yelling and accusing and sneering. You haven't grown an ounce since we were eleven- you still refuse to consider people beyond the superficial parts, to look at anything beyond what people want you to see! You demand to be treated as an adult, but do nothing to show you should be. You do not focus on important tasks given to you, but go seeking problems out on your own. You purposefully will take the more dangerous route instead of doing what you know would be safe! For God's sake, Harry, I've been trying for months to get you to give a minimal effort at Occlumency, but you won't even do that even knowing it's importance! It's like you want to be manipulated!" she ranted, panting with blue sparks flying from her hair.

Instantly, Hermione felt absolutely wretched. The look of betrayal in Harry's eyes mirrored when he decided to cut her out for alerting McGonagall to his new broom, before they knew Sirius was not going to harm them. The silence after her outburst was deafening, and none of her other friends spoke a word or even looked at her.

"Get. Out," Harry hissed, and Ron went to stand.

"Harry-" he started, but was silenced with an aggressive wave of Harry's hand. Hermione clenched her jaw and wrenched the door open.

"It's fine, Ron. He needed to hear it anyway," she said and slammed the door behind her. She had never felt so detached from her friends, so far away from them. Like she had almost outgrown them. With that depressing thought, she went off to her room and locked and warded the door behind her. She snatched up her journal and began to write furiously about what had just transpired.

Now that she was out of the room and the heat of the moment, Hermione was able to think clearly about what had transpired. Honestly, it was not the worst thing in the world, now that it had happened. Harry did need to have someone finally stand up to him, given the increasing rate of his angry rants and actions. She was deeply concerned about him, but not to the point of inaction.

The next few days were still agony. Harry refused to even be in the same room as her, and anytime they happened to pass each other he distinctly looked the other way with a furious look until she was out of his sight. Hermione was grateful to the Weasley's however. In particular, Fred and George. As Harry already did not spend a grand amount of time with them, the twins offered their room to Hermione and to pick her brain on their latest experiments and theoretical work. She wasn't surprised to see the amount of work they put into every single one of their projects, and was glad for the mental workout they provided. By the end of the holiday break, she had started spending nearly all her time with them, and Ron and Ginny when the other was able to distract Harry long enough for a visit.

The night before leaving back for school, Hermione took a deep breath and knocked on Harry's door. He opened the door and nearly slammed it in her face, but Hermione shoved her way inside regardless, much to his discontent.

"Go away, traitor!" he yelled, but she brushed it off and turned to face him directly with a determined glare.

"No. It's time for Occlumency practice. Just because you feel like throwing a tantrum does not mean I'm going to watch you fail to do the one thing Professor Dumbledore has asked of you," she said plainly, and before he could respond yelled " _Legilimens!_ "

Harry did not expect the sudden invasion of his mind in the same way of Snape, though she was much gentler on him. Nary a wall came up to block her out, and Hermione growled with frustration. She pressed further in and all kinds of memories came up- his first kiss with Ginny, and with Luna, their time spent together, Ron and him meeting on the Hogwarts Express when her bossy self showed up. She saw Cedric die, and Harry throwing himself over the body when he finally returned that fateful night. The dreams he had been tormented by. At no point did she feel any resistance.

"Damn it, Harry! Have you put in no effort at all?!" she yelled at him, and he looked nearly murderous. That did not deter her, though, as she felt entirely comfortable getting up closer to his face and sparking away with her own worried rage. She poked his chest roughly.

"Harry Potter! You've not been asked to practice Occlumency as some type of after school project. This is regarding the war, about not giving Voldemort a way to access and manipulate you. He already has with Mr. Weasley! What if he figures out how to send you a false vision, to trick you into a trap where he can grab you? You didn't try to push me out at all- there was no resistance. Why are you refusing to do this one thing? Not for me, not for Dumbledore, but for yourself? For Ginny and Luna, who would gladly follow you into that trap because they love you and want to help you? For Ron, who would be your side without a second thought? Act like you care a little bit, Harry. You can hate me all you want, but for God's sake, don't squander a chance to have an upper hand in the war," she fumed.

"What if I can control it? What if I can go into his mind?" he countered and Hermione gripped his shoulders.

"That does not matter if you cannot strengthen your own! He's the greatest Legilimens known, and probably is not half bad at Occluding either. If you can't keep him out, there's no way you'll be able to get in. This is step one no matter how you look at it. Don't you dare think otherwise," she countered, finally lowering her finger from him. His face had finally changed from furious to one of contemplation, and she sighed.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry I yelled at you the other day, but I'm not sorry about what I said. You needed someone to get through to you. I think he's starting to affect your personality. You've always been so kind to people who need it, but especially your friends. Lately… we've all been having to walk on eggshells around you because everything sets you off. I've offered my ear multiple times for you to just let out whatever is bothering you, and you refuse. Try to use the journal I've given you. It works beyond just writing to Sirius. You can use it as a journal and no one will see it but you. We're all concerned about you. We love you. Let us help," she said then opened the door.

"And start practicing, please" she said, and left to let her words sink in. Hermione let Ron know that Harry was probably in need of some emotional support at the time, and went back to her room. She simply didn't have the energy for it right then- seeing his memories had been emotionally exhausting. It was the first time she had ever delved into someone's mind, and she hated it. She was also hoping the distraction with Ron would keep Harry from realizing she had done underage magic, to him.

In the later hours, after a long time spent curled up in bed and sleeping deeply after a draining evening, a knock sounded at her door. Confused, and more than half asleep, Hermione answered the door in her thin nightdress and robe. When she opened the door, however, a tall dark figure loomed over her. She immediately assumed she was just dreaming, and grinned.

"Professor," she said and let him inside her room. Snape did not react to her state of dress or when Hermione flicked on some candles as she closed the door. She did not realize that internally, he realized he had fucked up. He was used to her keeping late hours and always being presentable, he was not anticipating her state of casual dress. He would simply not be able to look at her during the meeting as to not allow the image to linger in his mind, as it was already starting to do.

"Miss Granger, I've heard you finally snapped at Potter," he started off, looking out her window instead of towards her. She sat on the edge of her bed and sighed.

"Hermione. Yes, I did. I tried to make amends tonight... After I used Legilimency," she admitted, and Snape whipped around and stalked closer. Despite normally fearing his reaction, her tired mind could not help noticing the way the shadows from the candles played with the sharp lines of his face, a chiaroscuro painting by a master. Part of her realized she really needed to wake up, but she still felt relaxed by his presence, even with his sneer.

"You did what?" he asked carefully, and she shrugged.

"I knew he wouldn't sit down and practice with me, so instead I ambushed him to check his work. Nothing. Not even a shove. I may have yelled at him quite a bit afterwards. And did not actually apologize for what I had yelled at him before. He's had his head up his arse long enough, someone had to do it," she said and yawned. She hated that her body was acting as if there were no threat, as though her familiarity with Snape would keep him from hexing her.

"I see. How did he take to that?" he asked, ignoring her sleepy state. If anything, he hoped it would make her even more honest.

"Mm. Left before he could really react. He's got a terrible mind, he has, but I think I finally pressed through on actually practicing. I had Ron handle the after for me," she said, picking at her blanket. "He's better with emotions than I am anyway."

"Be careful when confronting him. He has been increasingly unstable," Snape warmed, and Hermione only snorted in response.

"Yes, well, I do still frighten him quite a bit. Did you know my hair sparks when I'm truly angry? When that turns on him he always shuts up, no matter how mad he may be. I'll use it while I can," she mused, and Snape stared at her. She still had on her bracelet, and he found himself uncomfortable looking at her more youthful face. Her eyes were half lidded as if she were being drawn back into sleep regardless of conversation, but her eyes were still fixed on him contemplatively.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he finally dared to ask, and she gave him a sleepy smile.

"You're beautiful, is all. And call me Hermione," she said in response, and he froze where he stood.

"You are definitely delirious. Our conversation will wait until later," he said, and she just shrugged and threw off her robe, revealing her nearly bare shoulders and the gentle curve of her breasts under the thin fabric of the nightdress. She managed to get herself back under the blankets, but motioned for him to come over first.

"Wait, please," she said, and he reluctantly came closer to her bedside. She reached a hand out towards his.

"Make this a better dream. I can talk to you about Harry anytime, Severus," she said, and he sighed deeply. This girl was going to destroy him. Her sleepy eyes looked up at him so innocently, as if she were not begging the world of him. She was so trusting and naive, and even dreamt of her horrid professor being kind. Still, he found himself unable to refuse her quietly spoken request, and he took a light hold of her hand. Her thumb ran over his knuckles and she smiled dreamily, and raised her lips to kiss his knuckles. He stared, mind unable to process the sweet motion.

"I'll repay the favor better soon. Good night, Severus" she murmured and her eyes finally closed, her lashes making pretty shadows over her freckle dusted cheeks. He was unable to move for a moment, still trying to figure out if he was in reality or not, and what sort of odd dreams this girl had. Finally, he tucked her arm back under the blanket and stopped himself from brushing back some hair from her face.

"Good night, Hermione," he whispered before sneaking from her bedroom, feeling dirtier than ever.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione woke the next morning to the bright winter sun and stretched luxuriously for a moment in bed. She recalled her dreaming of Snape visiting, but as she noticed the shortness of her candles and the robe on her floor, she nearly screamed. The sudden realization that no, that had absolutely _not_ been a dream and that she had actually kissed his hand mortified her. She pressed her face to her hands and felt the heat of her blush. There was absolutely no way she could handle seeing him now.

It took her a while to finally feel like she was brave enough to venture from her room to go down to breakfast, and to her relief Snape was not there. Harry did not immediately leave at her presence, but he still gave her a wary look. The twins began whispering to her about their plans for Umbridge, and she gave them a conspiratorial grin and threw herself into the distraction of planning when and how to slip Umbridge some ill faring treats without suspicion.

Eventually, Harry began including her in conversation by the time they were back on the train, and that gave Hermione some amount of relief. She selfishly enjoyed the small break from Harry, but was still thankful he had gotten over his anger fairly quickly. It was still nice to slip back into friendship and easy conversation on the way back up to the school. Mentally, she was still gearing up for seeing Professor Snape again.

She stopped in place as she entered the great hall for dinner and saw him already at the dinner table. Fred stopped beside her as everyone else filed in, concern etched into his features.

"Hermione?" he asked, and she broke out of her haze and gave him a nervous grin and continued walking.

"Sorry, just, well, nervous," she said, and he put a friendly arm over her shoulders.

"Well, don't worry love. Whatever's got you in a twist, I'll help you out," he promised, and she nearly laughed, but still gave him a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Fred, I'll keep that in mind," she replied, and took her seat between him and Ginny at the dinner table. She prayed that Snape would not look at Gryffindor's table, least of all her, but she felt a tingle from being watched and risked a glance up at the teacher's table again. Of course the potions professor was staring at her with an enigmatic look upon his face. Hermione met his eye, and he frowned and looked away. Definitely not pleased with her inappropriate behavior.

And, of course, she had potions the very next morning. She lollygagged around in the morning as long as she reasonably could, and walked into class between Ron and Harry with a very carefully schooled expression on her face. She would not blush at him, or admit that anything had happened in his presence. It would be better that way. She took her seat by Neville and put out her book and notebook neatly out with her quill and ink. She was a normal student with normal thoughts who definitely did not kiss the hands of her professors.

Snape flowed into the room with the same dangerous grace as he ever did, eyes flitting over his student's and stopping on no one for long, even her. After an uncomfortably long silence, he tapped the blackboard and his script appeared upon it, laying out the ingredients for the potion they were to practice but not naming it.

"Who can tell me what type of potion these ingredients would create?" he asked, sounding as bored as ever. Hermione examined the list of herbs, the dragonfly wings, the firescales, and knew instantly it was an antidote to veritaserum. That was definitely not on the curriculum- could he have learned something? Was that, perhaps, why he had come to speak to her beyond her brief fall out with Harry? She was so busy considering the implications that she did not raise her hand to answer, and was therefore surprised when he barked out her name.

"Granger! Enlighten the class as none of you will give even a guess," he snapped, glaring around the room. She instantly straightened in her seat but tried to refrain from her lecture tone.

"With these ingredients, the imbiber would be able to resist the effects of many willpower affecting potions, such as veritaserum," she said, looking at his face to gauge his reaction. He gave none, but tapped the board again and the instructions filled themselves in, along with the name of the potion, _Willpower Will Out_.

"Five points," he simply muttered, but it could have been fifty from the way Gryffindor reacted.

"Settle down and get to work or I'll take ten!" he growled loudly, and every quickly quieted. Hermione fetched her ingredients and helped Neville seek out his, though much more subtly than before by gently bumping his outstretched arm over another jar. He didn't even notice the movement. They took their seats and Hermione immediately began following the directions, taking her time to make it as precisely as possible. Her ingredients were carefully measured, her stirs perfectly timed. She needed this to be perfect, to memorize how to make it, and how to make it in bulk.

By the end of the class, her potion was at the exact right shade of shimmery black that it was supposed to be, like an oil slick in a phial. She placed it upon Snape's desk, and let a small paper slip out of her sleeve as she did, something she had written during the class while looking like she was noting the process of her potion.

After all the students left, Snape finally dared to pick up the slip and read what it said.

"Let me use the lab," was all that was written, and his frown turned into the faintest smile. She was a clever girl, she understood what was to come. And she would take the initiative to be prepared.


End file.
